If you’re cooking
I will do the dishes
If it’s the last thing I do
Because you’ll fight me
Kick me out of my own kitchen
Giggling like kids again
I’ll do the dishes
If you cook for me
I’ll curl up in my corner with a book
While you’re on shift
And smile when you come back
And you will – come back
To me
And my kitchen
Stick on that one song
'Bout the young kids in love
From way back when
The times when we laughed
Cried-bickered-danced-cared
The point in life when we decided
You’ll be the one cooking
And I’d go get my degree
You’d go off to be a hero
And I’d wait in the chair you built me
That rocks just a touch
Enough to swing a tad
A smile cracks as you stare at the sight
I turn the page
You still there staring
I feel your gaze
But I let you stand there
Knowing eventually you’ll turn
Towards the kitchen
Just to yell
“What you want for dinner?”
“What I want is to do the damn dishes tonight"
Photo of you I posted in my heart
Drives, dribbles me in the court that count
Logos I stick on my shirt
Faces of you that mount
Memories of you I treasure
Frequencies I feel and hold
Selfies you share with me so cool
Breaths of me that fold
Our pictures in me, I keep
Smiles we keep and lift
Night or day we dip
Our lips too far that drift
One day, you left and I pout
Days passed, I waited for you
You who forgot to send a note
And blaming me, not you
Upon your return you snobbed me
Acting like a kid and mimed at me
Photos of you and me I showed
Posted on a high wall...
in the mall where you met me!
Always available to chew,
Need a perspective or two.
Allows you to see,
How saving gum is as easy as one, two, three!
No life preservers.
No CPR.
No refrigeration for contemplation.
No social media reference.
There are some well-known facts,
Why saving gum is mandatory.
Let me tell you the story.
To reuse when we get the blues.
Expand our money for other things that are funny.
Preserve the environment over use of the sapodilla tree,
Bet you thought gum just appeared.
Avoid creating waste,
No shoes with gooey paste.
Gives time to pause a thought,
Prevents words from bubbling out.
Sometimes what you say makes people shout!
Save your gum!
Stick on top of your shoe.
Wrap in old gum paper,
Either way will do.
Set for a time,
Under tables divine.
Stuck on a door,
To be seen once more.
Hardening from exposure to air,
Makes a repeat chew more extensive to do.
The flavors not great.
But wait!
You've saved your gum,
For another late date!
I am a son of this boundless country man,
I've come to tell the songs of the steppe rather.
When I stride on the soil of my native land,
I've returned as if I were born from my mother.
As if a warm blood flowed through,
My mind becomes clear and pure.
When step on the soil of native land true,
As if he was reborn from his mother.
Even though his hair was always straight,
Even though he was short and white rather.
When he came with his stick on the street,
The whole district was afraid of my father.
I don't know what makes you strong,
Mayor or Director jumped up from seat.
My father would not say one word them,
However, their hearts enormous beat.
Even though you have short legs foot,
You will scare many people keen.
With the pure feelings of childhood,
I embarrassed to be near him.
I often remember those times,
I don't know why I feel ashamed.
My father's lofty spirit these days,
A hot stream flows through my veins.
The air of his birthplace is the medicine,
If you don't breathe that air, everything is in vain.
Above all, on the battlefield of the soul,
My father stands tall like a towering mountain!
The green is turning brown again.
Farmers are harvesting their grain.
Birds are planning their southward trek.
And I'm enjoying awesome sunsets from my deck.
The early morning dews are stick on the green grass.
And sooner than later, the hurricane season will pass.
She day Dreams as she puts
Her lipstick stick On.
Just a mild trial of flirtation
She laughs and her musical
Voice carriers on the scent of roses
I know so intimately
I know she dreams of me
Your face over candles and crystals
Your scent I smell, stick on murals
Finger prints of you over metals
Turning hard to soft like petals
I saw you kneeling when you prayed
Behind you was I and stayed
I can hear your soft voice unafraid
Wishing for a cat unbraid
The candles you litted inside the church
Served as my lights when you left
Your shoe prints on the aisle I search
Vanished like air without a cleft
I sat down for a while
Wishing you would come back
Minutes later you came back
Walking like Immortal over the scratched aisle
Middle aisle of the church so old
With you turning anything like gold
Your prayers are like magic so bold
Reviving with warmth everything around so cold
My immortal is in you that calls
My body and soul that falls
Wished you can be mine someday
Dreaming you're all mine all day!
Wreaths
Paintings
Wall hangings
A decorator's paradise
Wooden cars
Paint brushes
Stick on designs
A child's moment to learn how to drive for the first time
Candle wicks
Candle scents
Colored wax
A candle maker's luxury
A hobby for all
Who come to seek out
Their good fortune
What do I remember now
I see it again and wonder how
I did those things that were asked of us
And never thought to raise a fuss
In the silence of the night
Where you want to make it right
The little things that remind you
As you look to think it through
Does your memory hold true
On what you had to do
Or does it stick on one thing
That makes your memory ring
These little things bring forth regret
Where time now changes the bet
And wonder if you faced it again
Would the result be better then.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Thank you for your input. I appreciate the time you have spent.
Trying to fix me, to mold me, to make me better.
Some of your suggestions are wonderful.
I shall consider them, pondering them over and over.
I will throw them into the air and toss them around with my feet.
Some will stick on the ceiling where they will stay forever.
Others will land on my head.
I will comb them into my updo and parade them around town.
I will show the world how helpful you have been.
People will write you thank you notes.
I will put them all into a satchel and carry them to you.
If you live far away, I will mail them.
Please send me your address pronto.
Contest Judged by a Jury of Your Peers
Sponsor: Mark Koplin
Written 11-11-2020
Friendship should be kept,
though miles we're apart
distance it's still great;
because you are in my heart.
I'm gabby that makes you pique
I tell all with no holds barred,
I laugh, feel angry, I kick
for you pal, I won't be scared.
You just don't know why
I stick on and never leave,
even mountains that are full
of thorns, for you I'll drop by.
Whenever you are needing me,
I'm always be there anytime of the day.
The end of writing
I´m not a poet no more
have crossed the field of roses
in front of me a dark forest where blackened leaves
have yet to fall.
The forest is endless the hope is to find a tarn bottomless
and mysterious and nymphs are calling my name and made
or me a bed of rosebuds, but not under Damocles sword
the spirits of my life have a baroque sense of humour.
I have thrown away my pen,
no more scribbling on a piece of paper or bank statement
if I write it will be with a stick on a beach at the edge of the sea
and see as the ripples erase what I wrote something about
a dream in the land of forgetfulness.
Since my birth there have been endless wars, do dictators
sprout from the earth like cabbage, but to this forest
they will not dare to tread, less they will be petrified forever
lost in the dark flora.
A dawn makes a promise new
love songs, sing the chirping birds
soft aurora opens morn door
wet soft grass blades stick on shoe.
Fine lazy day, why undo?
dewed blooms whisper tender words
my heart wants to listen more
enjoying these moments few.
Drunk on nature, I get high
gentle, fresh breeze, feels so good
worries get all cast away
time seems to be on slow run.
Going out today, far cry
party barbecue, I would
friends are invited too, hey!
day so begun, is well done.
9.6.2020
Written 4 stanzas. Similarity of end words of respective lines of first and second stanza and then third and fourth stanza attempted.
i see a popsicle stick on the ground
a broken 45 is right near the old tree
i pick up one both pieces of the 45 out of curiosity
TORN BETWEEN TWO LOVERS
i shake my head for that song is such a gem
i see a penny head up on the asphalt
a broken 78 is right beside it with something sticky on it
i pick up the ant covered 78 because i am a nosy music buff
I'M MOVIN' ON
i roll my eyes at the complete disrespect for such a classic
i see time has turned into a hot rod electric powered
every now and then she stops to recharge
i flirt with her slowly, but she is not having it
ambrosia consumes my thought process as i remove my mask
BeforeHand and her giving heart is not the BIGGEST PART OF ME
Do not be afraid of it.
Fear not.
Do not let your catalytic fear pour into our reaction,
If do, however the process, it will still remain stick on you.
Do not deny and put a curse on it
That’s the fact however. It is a reality.
Need not to search the beginning,
If that will only become a reason for you to condemn someone
Your negative energy will only make the process runs on a wrong way
Fight … keep in spirit
With endothermic heartfelt friendship of all of us
And exothermic struggle for life of altogether of us
We can do anything
Whatever
Especially it is just the corona covid-19.
Do not be fear of it.
Keep fighting against it.
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